Changed
by Beware of the Nargles
Summary: Neville at Hogwarts in 7th year. Oneshot.


Changed 

The world has changed. Nothing is the same anymore. Nothing is how it used to be. No one is the same. Not even Hogwarts, the comforting, encouraging castle that makes me feel so light and cheerful inside, is the same. Before it had an aura of warmth and merriness, even if sometimes things went a little wrong. But now it is a vast, dark and dreary prison, trapping gloominess and despair inside it. 

And it's also trapped the Carrows and Snape inside. But of course, they don't see it as a sinister prison; they see a horde of meek, weak students to torture and teach all the horrific things that they have learned from Voldemort himself – Dark Arts. 

That's what is so awful about it here. No one can do anything about it. Not without someone like Harry Potter.

I sigh, then rush to my Dart Arts lesson; 45 minutes of silent endurance of pity, sorrow, fear, but most of all; hatred. I try to keep my abhorrence of them as under control as I possibly can in this situation. 

I enter the classroom and sit where I find an empty space – right at the front, near the teacher, Amycus Carrow. Everyone has already fought desperately for places at the back or behind particularly tall people, where they think they can't be seen to be picked on. It never works. 

But here we all are – meek and weak. Amycus Carrow, or The Crow (actually, Amy and Alec would do well for them) as people speak of him in private, leers at us and says, "Today we have a _wonderful _lesson for you. You will be practising Sectumsempra." 

I shudder apprehensively. Gasps and terrified glances are cast all around the room. A Slytherin girl cackles hysterically. Although I have no idea whatsoever what this 'Sectumsempra' is, it definitely sounds bad. 

"What _is_ Sectumsempra, and why are we doing it?" I ask loudly, not completely sure why I was even saying anything. It definitely wasn't bravery, cheekiness, foolishness…or…Actually it is foolishness, because now I have detentions on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Imagine what Gran would say if she knew about the detentions. I gulp nervously, vividly picturing what she'd do. Has Gran been to see Mum and Dad recently? I wonder to myself despondently. Poor them, having to live in hospital. It's safer than here, but still. I've always wished they could at least stay at Gran's house, in the spare bedroom. Imagine life if they were…normal. But what's the point of imagining it? I think angrily. They're not normal, and never will be. It's all Bellatrix's fault. All because of her. And she's one of them – a Death Eater, Voldemort's supporter. I hate her. I hate them all. 

"Who said that?" Snaps Amy (making that up wasn't even worth a smirk, things are so bad here) He looks at me suspiciously, then says, "You there, innit Longbottom? That your filthy name?" I don't answer, but stand up and glare at Amy furiously. He continues, "Well, why don't we find out what Sectumsempra does? Snape particularly wanted me to teach it to this stinking class. So, let's try it out on Longbottom 'ere, alright? Well, SECTUMSEMPRA!" 

Everything goes a terrible white. I can't see for the agonising pain that has erupted in me. My face; my chest; my whole body feels like it's been cut open, slashed by an invisible knife. I think it has. I lurch sideways and crumple onto the hard floor. Blood is gushing out of me in waterfalls, cascading around me and settling into large pools. 

Am I dying? I can't be. I'd be dead already. But…the pain is worsening; I'm losing too much blood. My senses aren't very accurate anymore, but I think there is chaos around me. I think I see a wicked grin, but then, I'm being lifted up, my head sagging…until I am laid down gently and I pass out.

- - -

It is now lunchtime, and I am sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ginny, covered in bandages. I still ache all over, but Madam Pomfrey tried her best. The whole time I was conscious in the Hospital Wing, I could hear her muttering with tears in her eyes, "O-oh, what h-has happened to this school? I'd n-never have thought S-Snape could be so…so heartless with all the st-students…Dear little N-Neville here…"

Everyone seems to have changed. Ginny, sitting opposite me silently, seems to have changed the most of all. She never utters more than a few words every day. She's been like this every day, and there's nothing Luna nor I can do; we've tried everything. But I feel for Ginny…the dreadful loss of Ron and Hermione, but worst of all, Harry Potter, has affected her the most. I think she's in love; and since Harry left her here to carry on life at Hogwarts, she's been pining away miserably. 

That's not to say she isn't her fiery self any longer; she is. Just in a … different sort of way. She slapped Seamus for not believing Harry will come back, and practically killed that evil cockroach Pansy Parkinson for taunting her. But there doesn't seem to be a way to comfort her, although I wish I could. I'm a little afraid, I suppose, that one day soon she'll let out all the anger and sadness that she's bottled up, and do something horrific. But we can hope..

"Hi, Neville," Even Luna isn't the same anymore. She's still lovely, inquisitive, honest and wise, but I've never seen her more serious. She hasn't even mentioned Snorkacks in weeks.

"Hello," I say glumly. Luna sits down beside me at the almost deserted Gryffindor table and puts a solitary lump of cheddar cheese on her plate. No one really cares where people sit nowadays, as long as we don't sit anywhere near the Slytherins. The Carrows and Snape don't even watch us at lunch, which is odd, because if I were Snape, I think I'd want to stop students plotting rebellions over lunch. Not that anyone has even considered rebelling now. 

"But why?" I ask Luna, confused. "Why has no one even tried to stop Snape? No one stands up to him or the Carrows." 

I'm sure Luna will know, because even though I used to think all she did was daydream, she's a lot more observant than me. 

"I suppose… it's because we don't have a leader." 

A leader? But who could have been a worthy leader anyway? I wonder. A leader is someone who stands up to people, helps people, and does what is right. Someone who can _lead_ people. Who…

"Harry." I jump and stare, startled, at the direction from which that tired sounding voice came from. It is Ginny. And I know immediately she is right.

Luna smiles a little dreamily, and whispers, "Neville should take his place." 

And so, I trudge to my detention, apprehensive thoughts racing in my head. Amy and Alec ask me to, no, not ask, _tell_ me to perform the Cruciatus Curse on a terrified second-year. 

No longer nervous, no longer scared of the unknown and awful consequences, no longer the little boy of before; I'm ready to fight for what I know is right. 

"I won't." 


End file.
